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"  SHE  RETURNED,  A  LITTLE  OUT  OK  liREATH,   WITH  A  RED-FACED    TYRANT 

UNDER  EACH  ARM." — Page  14. 
Frontispiece. 


THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER 

A   MARITAL   FAiNTASY 


BY 

G.  H.  P. 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

A.  W.  VAN  DEUSEN 


G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 

NEW   YORK  LONDON 

27  West  Twenty-third  Street  24  Bedford  Street,  Strand 

"Cbe  'Rmcfterbocfcer  press 

1894 


COPYRIGHT,  1894 

BY 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 


Electrotyped,  Printed  and  Bound  by 

ftnicfecrbocfeer  press,  flew  Jjjorh 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


TO 
THE    OPPRESSED    HUSBANDS    AND    FATHERS 

OF     THE    LAND 
AND    TO    THE    UNKNOWING    YOUNG    MEN    WHO    MAY 

BE    CONTEMPLATING    MATRIMONY 

THIS   LITTLE    TREATISE    IS    SYMPATHETICALLY 

DEDICATED    BY    THE    AUTHOR 


The  following  paper,  written  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  century  ago  (when  the  world 
seemed  younger)  for  the  purpose  of  pro 
moting  the  gayety,  not  of  nations  but  of 
a  very  serious  literary  society,  has  been 
thought  worthy  of  preservation  in  book 
form,  not  on  the  ground  of  any  literary 
quality,  but  because  of  its  philanthropic 
purpose,  and  because  also  the  narrative 
presented  situations  which  could  be  taken 
advantage  of  by  the  pencil  of  a  clever 
draftsman. 

Nciv   York,  June,  1894.. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

"SHE  RETURNED,    A   LITTLE   OUT   OF   BREATH,    WITH   A 

RED-FACED  TYRANT  UNDER  EACH  ARM  "  Frontispiece 

"  I  GAVE  MY  CRADLE  A  KICK  OF  MALICIOUS  SATIS 
FACTION  " 16 

"  THE   FACE   WAS   DELICATELY   TOUCHED   UP    BY    MY 

ARTIST  FRIEND  "    .         .         .         .         .         .         .22 

"THE  'MOTHER'  SAT  LOOKING  AT  HER  CHILD,  WITH 
AN  ASPECT  OF  CALM  DIGNITY  AND  SWEET  MOTHERLY 
AFFECTION  " 24 

"  OUR  NEW  NURSE,  MY  DEAR" 28 

"  FOR  A  MOMENT  THEY  STOOD  FACING  EACH  OTHER  "    .      30 


THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER 


THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

A    MARITAL    FANTASY. 

,"  I  said>  "I  can>t  stand  this  any 
longer.  I  might  as  well  have  no 
wife  at  all  as  to  have  one  who,  instead  of 
belonging  to  me,  her  lawful  lord  and 
master,  is  at  the  beck  and  call  of  sundry 
small  specimens  of  humanity,  to  whose 
remorseless  tyranny  she  yields  the  im 
plicit  and  uncomplaining  obedience  of  the 
most  abject  slave  !  " 

Numbers  eight  and  nine  of  our  little 
family  circle  had  arrived  together,  and, 
sturdy  little  fellows  that  they  were,  had 
recognized  the  situation  at  a  glance,  had 


12  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

deposed  number  seven  from  her  position 
of  supremacy,  and  had  set  up  a  despotism 
over  their  mother  and  the  household,  per 
haps  the  most  unmerciful  that  had  as  yet 
been  experienced. 

It  will  be  apparent,  from  this  prelimi 
nary  word,  that  I  am  a  married  man, 
sufficiently  so,  the  superficial  reader  may 
imagine.  But  it  is  precisely  my  complaint 
that,  while  my  opportunities  for  the 
development  of  my  parental  qualities  are 
unsurpassed,  my  married  life,  as  far  as  the 
society  of  my  wife  is  concerned,  does  not 
amount  to — well,  the  value  of  a  Confed 
erate  dollar. 

If,  going  "  fair  shares  "  with  my  progeny, 
I  had  been  permitted  to  put  in  a  claim  for 
say  an  even  tenth  of  her  attention,  I 
should  have  nothing  to  say.  But  those 


A   MARITAL  FAA'TASY.  13 

ogres  of  children  pull  her  to  pieces  in 
small  mouthfuls  through  the  twenty-four 
hours  between  their  nine  voracious  selves, 
without  giving  me  a  chance  for  even  a 
thirty-second  nibble.  In  giving  them 
their  classification  in  the  animal  kingdom, 
I  should,  I  think,  place  them  under  the 
head  of  "  Polly-pophagi,"  or  "  Mother- 
devourers." 

I  was  just  beginning  to  console  myself 
with  the  thought  that  before  number  one 
became  old  enough  to  sit  up  evenings, 
number  seven  would  learn  to  go  to  sleep 
before  midnight,  when  numbers  eight  and 
nine  arrived,  as  I  said,  "  all  in  a  heap," 
and  deranged  my  calculations.  "  No,"  I 
said,  for  perhaps  the  999th  time,  as  the 
maternal  slave,  after  eliminating  one  and 
two  in  a  flood  of  disgrace  and  tears  (that 


14  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

gave  them  the  appearance  of  a  compound 
waterspout),  tucking  up  three,  four,  and 
five,  who  were  accidentally  good,  and 
turning  over  to  me  the  cradles  containing 
six  and  seven,  with  injunctions  to  "  keep 
them  stirring,"  rushed  off  to  obey  the 
vociferous  calls  of  the  despots  in  chief,  the 
two  latest  arrivals,  "  it  won't  do." 

"  Polly,"  I  asked,  as  she  returned,  a 
little  out  of  breath,  with  a  red-faced  tyrant 
under  each  arm,  "  What  do  those 
('  wretches/  I  was  going  to  say,  but 
fortunately  checked  myself  in  time)  young- 
gentlemen  want  ? " 

"  Why,  a  little  motherly  affection,  to 
be  sure,"  she  answered,  commencing  to 
"  croon  "  to  them  in  the  language  peculiar 
to  mothers  and  babydom.  "  They  want 
me." 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  1 5 

"  Bosh,  "  I  rejoined.  "  They  want 
merely  something  soft  to  touch,  a  swing 
ing  motion  to  addle  their  brains  (if  they 
have  any),  and  a  monotonous  din  in  their 
ears,  and  they  would  be  just  as  well  satis 
fied  if  these  were  supplied  by  a  steam- 
engine  as  by  their  mother.  It  is  all  non 
sense  to  talk  of  babies  having  affection. 
You  might  as  well  believe  in  their  Cal 
vinism,  or  transcendentalism,  or  any  other 
product  of  later  life." 

Polly,  however,  was  too  absorbed  in  the 
"crooning"  process  to  listen  to  my  in 
sinuations,  and  the  beginning  of  a  growl 
in  one  of  the  cradles  at  my  feet  recalled 
me  to  my  own  duty.  But  while  I  worked 
I  pondered.  The  word  uttered  in  jest 
remained  in  my  mind.  "  A  steam-engine  !  " 
Yes  !  Why  not  ?  Or  an  engine  of  some 


1 6  THE  ARTIFICIAL   MOTHER. 

kind  to  perform  at  least  this  routine  labor 
of  keeping  the  young  savages  at  rest 
by  keeping  them  in  motion.  Something 
steady,  and  soft,  and  swinging,  and  "  croon 
ing."  Pshaw  !  Science  had  solved  worse 
problems  than  this.  It  is  simply  the  con 
struction  of  an  "  Artificial  Mother."  The 
thing  is  possible,  and  it  shall  be  done  !  I 
gave  my  cradle  a  kick  of  malicious  satis 
faction,  that  evoked  from  number  seven  a 
roar  of  rebellious  protest,  and  then  ab 
sorbed  myself  in  the  fascination  of  the 
thought. 

On  my  way  to  business  the  next  morn 
ing,  I  called  at  the  studio  of  an  artist 
friend  to  see  a  new  picture,  and  my  eye 
rested  on  a  lay-figure,  standing,  gracefully 
draped,  in  one  corner.  It  flashed  across 
me  that  this  was  just  what  I  wanted,  and  I 


"  I  GAVE  MY  CRADLE  A  KICK  OF  MALICIOUS  SATISFACTION." — Pare  l6. 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  I/ 

persuaded  my  friend  to  spare  it  to  me  for 
a  time  for  some  work  I  myself  had  in  hand. 

I  did  not  want  to  startle  Polly  or  to 
arouse  prematurely  the  suspicions  of  the 
twins,  so  I  carried  the  figure  up  into  a 
disused  garret,  and  devoted  all  the  spare 
hours  of  the  ensuing  week  to  experiment 
ing  upon  her.  She  was,  fortunately  for 
my  purpose,  of  the  finest  Paris  make,  steel- 
springed,  and  double  extra-jointed,  and 
there  was  question  merely  of  supplying 
the  inward  power ("  true  inwardness")  and 
the  outward  appurtenances. 

I  will  not  weary  my  readers  with  all  the 
details  of  my  labors.  I  became  so  ab 
sorbed  in  my  task  that  I  could  hardly  give 
thought  to  anything  else.  My  business 
suffered,  and  my  wife  complained  that  my 
face  was  getting  a  vacant  stare  upon  it 


1 8  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

and  she  thought  I  was  spending  too  many 
hours  at  that  horrid  club.  It  is  sufficient 
to  say  that  after  various  ineffectual  ex 
periments  with  steam,  compressed  air,  and 
electricity,  I  at  length  succeeded  in  pla 
cing  in  the  body  of  my  lay  woman  a  clock 
work  combination  which,  by  a  series  of 
spiral  connections  with  the  head,  arms, 
and  shoulders,  moved  these  in  a  uniform 
swing,  timed  to  coincide  with  that  of  the 
rocking-chair  in  which  I  had  placed  her. 
The  periodicity  and  harmony  of  the  move 
ments  were  perfect,  and  I  even  flattered 
myself  that  there  was  some  special  grace 
in  the  upward  sweep  of  the  arms,  and  quite 
a  motherly  effect  to  the  downward  bend 
of  the  head. 

But  the  crowning  triumph  of  my  labors 
was  the  duplex  "  crooning  attachment''  by 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  19 

means  of  which  was  generated  the  neces 
sary  "  rumble  jumble"  (with  those  monoto 
nous  sounds  I  was  only  too  familiar), 
which  came  streaming  out  of  the  mouth 
in  an  unbroken  succession  that  nothing- 

o 

but  the  action  of  the  "safety  stop-valve" 
could  break  off. 

This  part  of  my  "  mother "  cost  me 
much  care  and  anxiety,  for  I  knew  that 
unless  this  could  be  made  a  success,  all 
her  other  excellent  qualities  would  go  for 
nothing.  My  mechanical  readers  will 
easily  guess  the  principle  of  the  "  attach 
ment."  A  series  of  diminutive  organ  tubes 
were  arranged  in  the  chest,  the  valves  of 
which  worked  by  clock  springs,  while  the 
sound  was  conducted  through  a  larynx, 
(delicately  constructed  from  a  turkey's 
gizzard)  to  the  mouth.  The  first  attempt 


20  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

with  the  combination  produced  only  a 
series  of  unearthly  gasps,  at  the  bottom 
of  which  I  thought  I  detected  the  ghost 
of  a  gobble,  but  a  little  modification  of 
the  valves,  the  treatment  of  the  gizzard 
with  a  weak  solution  of  aqua  regia,  which 
softened  away  all  its  harsh  reminiscences, 
and  the  interposition  between  this  and 
the  tubes  of  a  pair  of  miniature  drum 
heads  (made  of  mouse-skin)  as  rever 
berators  of  the  sound,  gave  me  the  happy 
result  of  a  complete  series  of  "  croon 
waves."  I  was  able  also  finally  to  arrange 
these  in  three  sets  of  chords,  so  that  the 
crooning  could  be  made  piano,  andante, 
or  furiossissimo,  according  to  the  age, 
condition,  or  degree  of  obstreperousness, 
of  the  infant  being  operated  upon. 

Of  course,  the  clock-work  upon  which 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  21 

the  crooning  depended  was  entirely  dis 
tinct  from  the  system  controlling  the 
movements  of  the  body,  being  of  necessity 
much  more  complex  and  delicate,  as  sup 
plying  what  might  be  termed  the  "brain 
power  "  of  the  creature.  When  I  noticed 
the  precision  with  which  my  safety  stop- 
valve  worked,  bringing  the  most  furious 
croon-waves  to  a  complete  stop  within  the 
tenth  of  a  second,  I  could  not  help  long 
ing  that  its  application  could  be  extended 
beyond  the  range  of  artificial  mothers. 
What  an  ideal  domestic  existence  would 
be  that  in  which  the  natural  article  could 
be  brought  to  a  safe  stop  within  the  tenth 
of  a  second  ! 

It  now  remained  only  to  put  the  finish 
ing  touches  on  my  "mother"  in  com 
pleting  her  attire  and  adornments.  I  gave 


22  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

careful  attention  to  the  details  of  these, 
for  I  knew  that  those  twins  were  very 
sharp  fellows,  and  I  did  not  propose  to 
give  them  any  ground  for  irreverence  or 
even  for  criticism  in  the  appearance  of 
the  lady  who  was  to  stand  to  them  in  loco 
matris.  One  of  Polly's  nursery  gowns, 
with  the  color  of  which  the  twins  were 
perfectly  familiar,  was  skilfully  abstracted 
from  her  wardrobe,  and  gracefully  draped 
round  the  "  mother,"  whose  arms  and 
breast  had  first  been  carefully  padded. 

The  face  was  delicately  touched  up  by 
my  artist  friend  (whom  I  had  finally  been 
obliged  to  take  into  my  confidence),  until 
it  wore  an  air  of  maternal  affection  and 
solicitude  almost  surpassing  that  of  the 
original ;  and  the  hair  (which  was  one  of 
the  more  expensive  items  of  my  purchased 


"  THE  FACE  WAS  DELICATELY  TOUCHED  UP  BY  MY  ARTIST  FRIEND." 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  2$ 

paraphernalia)  was  arranged  as  nearly  as 
possible  in  the  regular  "  disarrangement " 
to  which  the  babies  were  accustomed. 
This  I  found  difficult  to  effect  without 
impairing  the  safety  of  the  fastenings,  and 
I  dreaded  somewhat  the  chance  of  one  of 
the  twins  in  an  enterprising  moment 
giving  a  grab  at  the  "light  ringlet  just 
sweeping  his  face,"  but  it  was  a  risk  that 
had  to  be  incurred. 

And  now  she  was  complete,  and  my 
heart  beat  high  with  a  sense  of  triumph 
and  expectation,  while  visions  came  before 
me  of  the  time  when,  with  a  whole  team 
of  "artificial  mothers"  crooning  peace 
and  comfort  through  the  house,  Polly  and 
I  could  roam  away  in  blissful  idleness  and 
renew  the  days  of  our  youth. 

A  carefully  prepared  rag-baby  was  laid 


24  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

in  the  arms  of  the  expectant  mother,  the 
two  sets  of  works  were  wound  up,  the 
starting  spring  touched,  and  the  rocking 
and  fondling  and  crooning  commenced, 
with  such  perfect  naturalness,  grace,  and 
harmony  that  I  was  carried  away  by  my 
delight,  and  caught  myself  saying,  "  My 
dear,  you  are  a  grand  success,  and  reflect 
credit  on  your  maker." 

I  put  on  the  stops,  and  the  baby 
dropped  with  an  easy  motion  of  the  arms 
into  the  "mother's"  lap,  the  crooning 
softened  down  into  the  gentle  murmur  of 
the  "piano,"  then  ceased  altogether,  and 
the  mother  sat  looking  at  her  sleeping 
child  with  an  aspect  of  such  calm  dignity 
and  sweet  motherliness  that  I  was  irresist 
ibly  impelled  to  give  her  a  kiss  of  hus 
bandly  approval. 


;  THE   '  MOTHER'    SAT  LOOKING  AT  HER  CHILD,  WITH  AN  ASPECT  OF  CALM 
DIGNITY  AND  SWEET  MOTHERLY  AFFECTION." — 1'agC  24. 


A    MAKITAL  FANTASY.  2$ 

"What  would  Polly  say?"  I  thought, 
as  I  wiped  from  my  lips  the  slight  touch 
left  on  them  by  the  damp  paint.  Remov 
ing  the  rag-baby,  I  lifted  with  some  effort 
the  chair  containing  my  handiwork  down 
to  the  door  of  my  parlor,  which,  since  the 
advent  of  the  twins,  had  been  appropriated 
by  them  as  a  special  private  nursery,  where 
my  occasional  presence  was  permitted 
only  on  sufferance. 

The  moment  seemed  propitious  for 
my  experiment.  I  could  hear  the  twins 
yelling  with  vociferous  indignation  for 
their  slave  Polly,  who  had  evidently 
been  called  into  the  farther  nursery  by 
some  outbreak  among  their  predecessors. 
I  opened  the  door,  placed  the  rocking- 
chair  cosily  in  front  of  the  fire,  smoothed 
down  the  drapery  and  loosened  out  the 


26  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

hair  of  its  occupant,  and  gently  laid  a 
twin  in  each  arm.  A  touch  on  the 
springs,  and  the  arms  moved  up,  clasping 
the  little  clamorous  infants  to  her  breast ; 
the  head  bent  over,  the  feet  touched  the 
floor,  impelling  the  chair  with  a  uniform 
swing,  and  with  an  equally  uniform  mo 
notony  the  steady  waves  of  the  "  croon 
ing  "  poured  forth  from  her  lips. 

The  twins  hushed  their  angry  com 
plaining  and  looked  up  inquiringly  at 
the  being  to  whom  their  destiny  (in  the 
shape  of  their  father)  had  confided  them. 
It  was  a  moment  of  terrible  suspense.  If 
their  keen  perceptions  discovered  the 
fraud,  if  they  decided  that,  in  addition 
to  the  creature  comforts  of  warmth  and 
motion  and  noise,  it  was  essential  to  their 
happiness  to  have  also  the/£  ne  sais  quoi 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  2/ 

of  motherliness  that  my  substitute  could 
not  bestow  upon  them,  if  (in  the  language 
of  the  day)  their  unsatisfied  yearning 
revealed  to  them  that  their  souls  were  not 
fed,  and  their  sensibilities  not  ministered 
to,  my  beautiful  theories  would  fall  base 
less  to  the  ground,  and  my  labor  and 
hopes  would  indeed  have  been  vain. 

But  no  !  Firmly  held  in  the  warm 
embrace  of  the  untiring  arms,  evenly 
rocked  in  the  steady  swing  of  the  chair, 
and  dinned  into  unconsciousness  by  the 
unbroken  stream  of  sound,  they  stilled 
their  noisy  complainings,  accepted  the 
situation,  and  relapsed  into  a  state  of 
blissful  contentment  and  repose.  It  was 
evident  that  babies  had  no  souls  that 
needed  ministering  to,  and  that  my  "  arti 
ficial  mother"  was  a  success.  I  threw 


28  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

myself  into  an  easy-chair  with  the  con 
sciousness  that  I  had  done  a  great  work 
for  the  world,  for  myself,  for  Polly. 

Just  then  I  heard  her  step  approaching. 
The  sudden  cessation  of  the  wonted  cries 
had  alarmed  her  keen  ear,  and  she  came 
flying  in,  looking,  with  the  flush  of  haste 
and  alarm  upon  her  face,  especially  pretty 
and  charming. 

"  Our  new  nurse,  my  dear,"  I  said, 
waving  my  hand  towards  the  chair. 

"  A  friend  who  has  come  in  to  lend  a 
hand,"  I  proceeded  rather  incoherently, 
seeing  that  Polly  stood  back  with  doubt, 
bewilderment,  and  vague  apprehension. 

"In  short,  my  dear,  my  new  artificial 
mother''  I  burst  out  in  desperation,  as 
she  still  stood  and  stared,  while  the  rock 
ing-chair  went  on  without  ceasing,  and 


"  OUR  NEW  NURSE,  MY  DEAR." — Page  28. 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  29 

the  crooning  started  in  on  the  higher 
key. 

"Artificial  what?"  cried  Polly.  "  Oh, 
Tom  !  what  frightful  experiments  are  you 
making  with  my  blessed  boys  ?  Let  me 
have  them  at  once,"  she  cried,  rushing  at 
the  figure. 

But  the  babies  were  but  clutched  the 
tighter,  the  chair  swung  more  swiftly,  and 
the  "  crooning"  burst  into  a  louder  strain 
with  what  sounded  like  a  defiant  ring. 

"  Give  me  my  children  ! "  shrieked  Polly, 
trying  to  check  the  ceaseless  swing  of  the 
chair,  but  the  "  mother "  continued  im 
perturbable  and  only  answered  her  vehe 
mence  with  a  bland,  fixed  smile. 

"Tom,  help  me;  the  thing  is  a  de 
mon  ! "  screamed  Polly  in  desperation,  pull 
ing  frantically  at  the  "mother's"  arms. 


30  THE  ARTIFICIAL  MOTHER. 

But  even  as  she  spoke  the  swinging  re 
doubled  in  velocity  until  the  two  babies 
grew  black  in  the  face,  and  seemed  merged 
into  one.  The  crooning  burst  into  a 
savage  roar,  as  if,  indeed,  a  fiend  had 
taken  possession  of  my  innocent  "  mother," 
and  to  my  excited  imagination  it  really 
seemed  that  her  eyes  flashed  fire  and  her 
face  assumed  an  expression  of  demoniacal 
malice. 

Finally,  with  a  ferocious  tug,  Polly 
succeeded  in  pulling  the  "  mother"  up 
from  the  chair.  For  a  moment  they 
stood  facing  each  other,  glaring  at  each 
other  in  rage  and  defiance  until  I  could 
hardly  tell  which  looked  the  more  terri 
ble  of  the  two. 

Then  came  a  "  whirr"  and  a  snap,  and 
with  a  frightful  crashing  too-ether,  and  a 


"FOR  A  MOMENT  THEY  STOOD  FACING    EACH  OTHER." — /"«§?  30. 


A   MARITAL  FANTASY.  3! 

last  despairing  "croon,"  the  "mother" 
sank  in  fragments  on  the  floor,  shooting 
the  two  babies  to  the  opposite  ends  of 
the  room,  like  billiard-balls  from  a  carrom. 

With  the  whirr  and  the  crooning,  and 
the  crash  still  ringing  in  my  ears,  I  woke 
up  and  found  I  had  tipped  over  the  cradle 
of  number  seven  on  top  of  number  six, 
and  that  the  collision  had  produced  a 
small  pandemonium. 

My  "artificial  mother"  was  a  dream, 
but  may  I  not  hope  also — a  prophecy  ? 


A     000717781     9 


